


You Could Still Go

by LucentPetrichor



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, enough to put one in a sugar coma, jeez it's been a while since i uploaded something, this fic resembles Q's tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 17:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucentPetrichor/pseuds/LucentPetrichor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You could still go, you know. Leave it all behind, have a proper life.” A silent ‘again’ hung in the air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Could Still Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written over on the 00Q [Tumblr](http://qbond.tumblr.com/post/34926949089/you-could-still-go) for "Linger"

“Penny for them.”

Bond didn’t turn, stayed looking out over Central London standing on the lip of the Old Admiralty Building. It had been a month exactly since the Skyfall mission and the OAB was fast turning into a haunt of his. Like Eve had said, “I didn’t know you could get up here” and so no one really did.

“You could still go, you know. Leave it all behind, have a proper life.” A silent ‘again’ hung in the air.

Q walked forward to stand next to Bond – _James_ –, shivering slightly despite his coat and the large mug of Earl Grey clutched between his hands.

“I could leave a data trail and everything, wipe you off the radar; give you a completely new life. It’s not that difficult.” His mind went back to when he was fifteen and nameless, about to get arrested for fraud. He’d learned since then.

James remained silent and staring.

Q shuffled sideways, closer to the agent and pushed down on his shoulder, tugging them both down to sit with feet swinging off the edge of the building. He took a sip of his tea and set the now infamous Scrabble mug down, before leaning in close to James and wrapping his arms around him.

“Before you say anything, double-oh, I’m cold and you are warm. And in need of a hug, judging by the look on your face. Oh, don’t give me _that_ look; you know it doesn’t work anymore.”

James sighed and turned back to staring out over the city.

“Planning on talking at all any time soon?” Of course Q knew when to shut up, when to keep quiet but that time was not now and if there was anything that he was good at (other than hacking and leaving data trails and making tea), it was talking. Just talking, babbling about nothing in particular. It was nice to relax the brain-to-mouth filter sometimes and let all your thoughts spill out.

“No? Okay, shift a sec. Lift your arm, it’s hard to hug you like this. James, _move_! So help me, I will tickle you and make you shift like that if I have to,” Q wriggled closer to James, almost in his lap and head tucked under his chin. “Are you comfortable like this? Nod or shake your head, I can tell you’re going to be stubborn and not talk.”

James’ arm tightened slightly around Q as he nodded, lips curving to form a small smile. They spent a small time like that, sitting as their merged shadows lengthened in the slowly lowering sun, sharing body heat until James poked Q in the side, prompting a small muffled “what”. Q drew himself up from where he’d ended up somewhat slumped over James’ body to look at him. James pointed to the mug of tea on Q’s other side, still with a small smile on his face.

“You know it’s going to be stone cold now, right? And you don’t even like the way I take my tea. If I remember correctly, the first time you stole, yes _stole_ , my drink you pronounced it ‘revoltingly syrupy and enough to put one in a sugar coma’,” He withdrew his arms from around James and handed the mug over regardless, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I believe you also made some reference to diabetes type 2 several times...”

Both sitting up straight now, James took a sip of the now cold Earl Grey and winced.

“Hah! See, I knew it!” James’ smile widened at the triumph in Q’s voice. He set the mug down on the stone ledge again and went back to staring, hands in his lap. Q turned sideways to recline against James’ arm, one leg hanging off the ledge.

Just when the sun was beginning to dip beneath the skyscrapers of Central London, Q heard an intake of breath above his head and craned his neck to look up.

“Are you going to talk now, finally?”

James’ reached across his body to flick Q’s nose. “I might be able to linger here a bit longer.”

“Oh good. Um. Here as in top of the OAB because it was cold already and now I think I’m starting to be able to see my breath... or did you mean - ”

“I mean England, Q. I mean MI6. I mean _you_. I’m staying. Are you planning on shutting up any time soon or am I going to have to find a way to make you?”

 Q sat up, almost cracking James’ chin with the top of his head, “ _Finally._ Can we go inside now, please? As warm as you are, comparable to a space heater really, you’re not warm enough to warrant staying on a rooftop at night without at least a blanket or six.”

The strength with which he clung to James when they were both standing betrayed his relief at James’ words. _He was staying._

**Author's Note:**

> If I've made anyone vomit, lemme know.


End file.
